Imogene reflected. "Hum!" she mused. "We don't need two hired hands,
that's a sure thing. You mean he'll take Kenelm's job?"
"That isn't settled, so you mustn't speak of it. I know my cousin will
be very sorry to let Kenelm go, largely on your account, Imogene."
"On my account?"
"Why, yes. You and he are engaged to be married and of course you like
to have him here."
Imogene burst out laughing. "Don't you worry about that, Miss Emily,"
she said. "I shan't, and I don't think Kenelm will, either."
Breakfast was ready at last and they were just sitting down to the
table--it had been decided not to call Jedediah or Mr. Cobb--when
Georgie appeared. The boy had crept downstairs, his small head filled
with forebodings; but the sight of the knobby stocking and the heap of
presents sent his fears flying and he burst into the room with a
shriek of joy. One by one the packages were unwrapped and, with each
unwrapping, the youngster's excitement rose.
"Gee!" he cried, as he sat in the middle of the heap of toys and
brown paper and looked about him. "Gee! They're all here; everything I
wanted--but that air-gun. I don't care, though. Maybe I'll get that next
Christmas. Or maybe Cap'n Bangs'll give it to me, anyhow. He gives me
most anything, if I tease for it."
Thankful shook her head. "You see, Georgie," she said, "it pays to be
a good boy. If Santa had caught you hidin' under that sofa and watchin'
for him last night you might not have got any of these nice things.
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